


Cut to the Feeling

by kayromantic



Category: Mighty Ducks (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Mutual Pining, Post-Canon, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-12-24 23:02:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21107465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kayromantic/pseuds/kayromantic
Summary: Adam’s been waiting the whole night, Charlie’s been waiting for three years.





	Cut to the Feeling

**Author's Note:**

> Title courtesy of the irreplaceable Carly Rae Jepsen.
> 
> As always, special thanks to @satelliteinasupernova for the beta and support!

Charlie Conway is simply put, the _ best _best man.

It’s why everyone has always asked him to play the part. He’s been best man for every Duck Wedding since Connie and Guy tied the knot shortly after college graduation. Tonight, he's playing host at Goldberg’s wedding. one of the last remaining members of the team to say ‘I do’, at a banquet hall just outside of Philadelphia. Adam watches Charlie as he stands and gives his customary toast before dinner. He’s recounting a story of one of Goldberg’s many foibles from back in the day, and despite it being the typical Goldberg story, all gas and bumbling and crass fumbles, Charlie’s delivery is not filled with derision or mockery, but rather fondness and nostalgia. It is everything that is great about Charlie, open, amiable, funny and most important, genuine.

And, he isn’t half bad to look at.

At least that is what Adam overhears two girls at table twelve behind him. One of them asks the other girl (Adam thinks they are both from the bride’s side of the family but isn’t sure) whether Charlie’s single and who do they think he would go back to the hotel room with tonight. They seem to make some sort of bet as to who could snag the best man. Adam smirks to himself, pulls his phone out of his pocket and sends a quick text, before focusing back on Charlie as he finishes his speech.

“…and so, while there was many a time where I wished he could stop a puck to save his life, he’s always been there. So to Goldberg, I say thank you for all the laughs and the good times, I love you man. And to Hanna, good luck, you can take it from here.”

The room laughs with him and Charlie raises the champagne glass, “To Greg and Hanna.”

“To Greg and Hanna!” 

Adam takes a single sip of champagne before placing it back on the table. He takes another glance at his phone, before turning back to the rest of the table.

“Well, he does it again, another signature Charlie Conway toast in the books,” Guy says as he stabs a fork in the prime rib in front of him.

“Who knew Spazway had it in him,” Kenny says from Adam’s other side.

“You said that last time,” Russ cuts in.

"You're just bitter that no one ever asks you," Jesse goads from Adam's other side.

They laugh for a bit at Russ’s display of indignation before Julie brings the conversation right back.

“You know, thinking about it, it is really amazing that he isn’t married by now,” Julie says.

The table pauses thinking on the comment. Adam looks at his phone again.

“Has he even come close?” Max, Julie’s husband, asks.

Everyone looks to each other and then to Connie and Guy, the two who still live in Minnesota, who shook their heads.

“Now that I think about it, has he ever even brought anyone to a wedding?” Kenny asks, “I don't think he's ever had a date and I’ve never seen him leave with anyone either.”

“Who woulda thought that Charlie Conway would be the perpetual bachelor, I always pegged him for a homebody,” Russ says, “It’s fascinating if you think about it.”

“It’s infuriating is what it is,” Connie interjects, and everyone turns to her. She sighs when she realizes that everyone wants her to elaborate, “a couple of months ago, we tried to set him up with a girl from Guy’s office, and he just blew us off. He completely stood us up and his excuse was something about a work emergency. He’s a high school history teacher, what emergency could he have at eight pm on a Saturday.”

“Maybe the emergency is that he’s a terrible liar,” Russ quips and the table erupts in laughter.

“I think there’s someone,” Julie says, “Charlie’s pretty extroverted. He must have someone already.”

“We would know,” Connie says, "we see him all the time. He wouldn't be able to keep that from us."

“Maybe they’re not together,” Julie says, “Charlie’s a devoted guy. I could see him carrying the torch for years.”

"And this person is what just oblivious?" Jesse asks.

"If that is the case, I have a few choice words for them," Guy says, and everyone nods in agreement. They haven't really been an official team for years, but they were still over-protective of each other.

Adam coughs and Julie hands him a small bottle of water.

“Nah, it’s probably been awhile and he’s rusty and didn’t want to make a fool of himself,” Russ says breaking the ice and the table laughs before moving on to discuss what the odds are that Goldberg would take more cake on his face than in his mouth.

Adam checks his phone again. Nothing.

“You expecting a call from someone?” Julie asks.

“No, just seeing whether there’s any news on any change ups in the roster,” Adam says, and Julie nods and leaves it at that, she knows he’s lying.

Adam forgets the topic of Charlie’s apparent celibacy until it comes back up again a little later after dinner is finished and the DJ starts the music up. Adam tries not to stare too hard or too much as Charlie teaches the flower girl and ring bearer how to dance. He’s standing with Russ, Averman, Fulton and Portman discussing hockey and other things when Charlie approaches them. He’s peering at his phone as he comes to stand by Averman.

“Well here’s the man of the hour,” Averman says, wrapping an arm around Charlie.

“Don’t let Goldberg hear you say that; it’s his wedding,” Charlie says, taking one last look at his phone before putting it in his back pocket. He and Adam make eye contact but Charlie breaks it off when Averman continues his ribbing.

“Great toast, as usual man,” Averman crows, “you must be able to write them in your sleep now.”

“I only had to do that for yours,” Charlie says, ignoring Averman's huff in response.

“Don’t be modest,” Russ cuts in, “though, I have to say, it’s really surprising that Goldberg beat you down the aisle, Spazway. What, can’t get a girl to marry you?”

“Guess not.”

Adam twists the bottle cap of the water in his hands and tries not to look too interested in the conversation. Charlie for his part, seems irritated at this line of questioning, providing only vague one-word answers, until he finally throws his arms up and points at Adam.

“What about Banksie?” Charlie asks, “He doesn’t seem to date either.”

Adam doesn’t say anything. He’s never been forthcoming about his personal life, even with close friends. The last thing he needs is for them to find out about the fact that he’s been in a relationship for three years and that as of a few months ago that relationship was now over.

“Banksie, is a jet-setting, all star, openly gay hockey player, it’s understandable that he doesn’t date. You, however, work for chump change for the Ramsey County School District,” Averman says, “You have no excuse.”

Charlie sighs and instead resigns himself to the goading and teases. Adam does everything he can to pay attention to anything other than the fact that he catches Charlie staring at him every now and again.

He takes a long draw of water. It’s going to be a long night.

  
  
  


The banquet hall closes at ten, so just as the staff guides the remaining wedding guests out, a small group of close family friends move the festivities to the lobby of the hotel. Adam only stays for a little while before making his way back to his room.

He’s not tired, not really, so he really just mindlessly putzes around the hotel room after washing up. Every now and then his phone buzzes and lights up and every time Adam checks it he sighs in disappointment when it’s just another message in the Duck’s group chat saying some form of how great it was to see everyone or to share random photos taken over the course of the night.

Adam just sends one text agreeing with the general sentiment of the conversation. He packs and re-packs his suitcase over and over again. His flight back to L.A. isn’t until tomorrow evening and he really did have time in the morning before checkout. He is just trying to not stare at the phone, willing it to light up with a message that he knows will probably not come through.

He’s folding a t-shirt when he hears the raps at the door. He looks up, and for a moment wonders whether he’d imagined them. He looks at the clock by night stand, it's 10:45 pm. The knocks come again. It’s definitely not his imagination.

He walks over and opens the door and it’s as if the whole world for a moment stops spinning on its axis. Adam sucks in a breath.

There, outside his door, Charlie’s leaning his elbow up against the doorframe, legs lazily crossed. He’s lost the jacket and the bow tie of his tux, but still decked out in the light blue vest, white collared shirt and slacks. He has a pair of glass tumblers and a bottle of Maker’s Mark in his hands. He is, Adam thinks, truly a sight for sore eyes.

“I charmed it off a very cute bartender downstairs,” Charlie says, but they both know he’s lying. Charlie’s as much a by-the-book kind of guy as Adam is, something the others always teased them for.

“So you in?” 

Adam realizes he'd been staring just a tad too long, so he coughs nervously into his fist before stepping aside to allow Charlie in. Charlie strides past him and Adam never takes his eyes off him as he crosses the room to the small table on the other side of the bed. Neither says a word as he sets the glass down and unscrews the cap off the bottle of whiskey. Charlie pours two cups and offers one to Adam. He takes a long sip, trying to quiet the nerves, focusing on how smooth the liquor is and how relieved he is that at the very least, regardless of what comes next, Charlie came.

The silence does have to be broken though.

“Great job, tonight,” Adam says.

“Yeah it was a real hit,” Charlie said, swirling his glass in his hands.

“Great toast, probably your best one yet,” Adam says, “You could probably teach a course on it.”

“You telling me to quit my job and work the wedding circuit?” Charlie lets out a small laugh, almost more to himself than anything.

“You certainly have the experience, no one would have as extensive a resume,” Adam finishes the bourbon in his glass and sets the glass down on the dresser by the tv. 

“Yeah, well it’s pretty thankless. Remind me next time that someone asks to say no,” Charlie says.

Adam shakes his head.

“I don’t think you’ll have to worry, there isn’t really anyone left to ask,” he says.

Charlie eyes him for a moment.

“There’s you,” Charlie says, and Adam eyes are transfixed on his lips as he takes another swig of whiskey.

Adam lets out a breath.

“I would never ask.”

There’s a weight to the conversation and Adam moves on, to answer the question that Charlie wouldn’t (or couldn't) ask.

“It doesn’t matter. It won’t happen any time soon,” Adam says.

“It won’t?”

Adam makes eye contact and Charlie’s blue eyes are searing, and Adam’s knows that what comes next rests on whatever he says right here and now.

“Me and Henry broke up.”

Charlie doesn’t say anything for a moment. He takes one long gulp of the remaining whiskey in his glass before looking at Adam for a long moment.

“God damn it.”

And that is all he says before he strides over to Adam and kisses him. 

It only takes a second for Adam to lean in and reciprocate. He can still taste the whiskey on Charlie’s lips, but other than that kissing Charlie is just as Adam remembers it, warm and soft and perfect. It’s been three years since the last time they were together and Charlie is kissing him as if they had never stopped. His arms snake up Charlies back, trying to press himself even closer. He had just spent the whole evening thinking that this wasn’t going to happen and he isn’t about to waste the opportunity. Charlie’s hands are at turns cupping his face and fingers threading through Adam's hair.

They finally move apart, breathless. Adam thinks that they probably should talk, but Charlie is kicking off his shoes and peeling off his vest and shirt. Adam discards his unbuttoned dress shirt and sits at the foot of the bed, before peeling off his white shirt. He never stops looking at Charlie. Charlie is bare-chested now, and the years have been kind. He’s gained a few pounds since they last saw each other, but still toned. He’s tall and tan and his entire aura is charged. Adam ruefully thinks about the girls at table twelve and what they would think if they could see Charlie now. 

He is quite simply, the most beautiful man that Adam has ever seen.

Charlie approaches him, but Adam stops him before he’s able to climb onto the bed. He firmly plants his hands on Charlie’s waist.

“Wait,” Adam says, his voice light. “Me first.”

Charlie steps back and Adam slides off the bed and onto his knees. Charlie backs into the dresser pulling Adam along with him. Adam presses his lips to Charlie’s navel, and smiles up at Charlie who nods.

Adam makes quick work of the belt buckle, and in one swift movement pulls down Charlie’s pants, his underwear along with it. He steadies his breathe, and he feels Charlie tense up at the closeness. He is hard though, and Adam anchors his arms around Charlie’s thighs, catching a brief squeeze of his ass.

“Get on with it,” He hears Charlie mutter and Adam nods.

He takes Charlie into his mouth and takes his time of working Charlie through. He barely contains a smile at every ‘Fuck’ and moan and every time he draws his name from Charlie’s lips. It doesn’t take long before Charlie comes and when Adam finishes swallowing around him, he backs away. He wipes the back of his fist across his mouth before rising to his feet and kissing Charlie deeply before falling back onto the bed.

If they were still the young, naive teammates that they were when they had started this thing, that single blow job would have been the end of it. But they weren’t twenty one any more and they were plenty experienced, it had been too long and Adam knew he wouldn't be content with that. He didn't think Charlie would be either. Adam slides his own pants off and scoots back until his shoulders and head hit the headboard.

Charlie for his part, steps out of his shorn pants and crawls onto the bed until he’s hovering above Adam. Adam leans up, once again smashing their lips together. For the next indeterminate amount of time, they spent it together, all mouths and hands and limbs, rediscovering each other, pulling memories up from the deep recesses. It’s a lot different from when they were twenty two and were fumbling in the coat room after the first post-college Ducks’ reunion, when they ran on pure instinct, moving blindly until they found out what felt good. Every move was deliberate and precise and with purpose.

Adam tries to focus on what feels good now and not what was then. He certainly didn’t want to think about the last time and why it had been so long. Not as Charlie is trailing his lips up the length of him, pressing his lips to every bruise and counting every rib, trying to reclaim years that were unfairly lost. 

He turns Adam over and Adam shivers as Charlie’s fingers, smooth and more nimble than they really should be, brush up his spine. Charlie stops at the center of his left shoulder blade and Adam knows that at least a part of him has been found out.

About a year ago, on a whim (though not really), Adam had gotten a small yet noticeable tattoo. He hadn’t been able to explain to Henry why he had done it or the significance of what he had branded on his skin. It hadn't been for Henry nor Adam. But Charlie would know, and going by the hiss of Charlie drawing in air through his teeth, Charlie knew all too well what it was and who exactly it was for. On the center of his shoulder blade, right above his heart, etched into his skin is the number 96. Charlie’s number.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Adam doesn’t think Charlie meant him to hear that, but Adam does, so keyed into Charlie’s every movement, every breath.

Adam turns to face Charlie, but he can’t say anything. Not that there is anything to say, really.

Charlie puts a hand to his cheek, and softly, one could almost say lovingly, brushes his thumb along Adam’s cheekbone and jawline. He opens his mouth to say something but stops sort. Rather he just leans in and presses his lips too Adam’s. The kiss is almost chaste and Adam leans into it instinctively.

When their lips part, their foreheads touch for a moment, their eyes lock and Adam wants this moment to last forever. It’s uncomplicated and simple and he could just pretend that there isn’t three years between them.

“Do you have—”

Charlie doesn’t have to finish the sentence for Adam to know what he’s asking. He points to a black pouch on the nightstand and Charlie briefly leaves him to rummage through it until he found exactly what he was looking for. He pulls the small jar of lube and a condom before returning to Adam’s side. Adam trains his eyes on Charlie as he watches him warm some lube in his hands and then braces himself for the contact.

Charlie’s hands are warm when he finally reaches under and pushes his fingers inside. Adam moves to rest on his stomach to give Charlie easier access but Charlie stops him.

“I want to see your face.”

Adam can only nod, and his eyes flutter closed as he tries to relax his body. He feels Charlie move over him, and he clasps Charlie’s shoulders. Charlie pushes into him and Adam grimaces at the momentary discomfort. But that disappears soon and familiar waves of pleasure begin to pulse through his body as Charlie begins to move. They find a rhythm, slow and steady, and it is...well it's absolutely heaven. It is a rhythm that Adam has never been able to match with anyone else. He moves his arms to swing around Charlie's torso and runs his palms up Charlie’s back.

Neither can form words, just indistinguishable sounds and murmurs, as the sensation between them begins to build and build and Charlie’s mouth is open and Adam gasps as Charlie goes deeper and deeper. He’s forgotten how it felt for Charlie to be this close and he tries to hold on, savor every moment, make it last. There’s no guarantee it will happen again. He buries his face into Charlie’s collarbone.

When they both reach the edge, when they know it’s going to be soon, Charlie stills above Adam and his eyes are crystal clear.

“I really missed—”

But Charlie isn’t able to finish, because Adam feels the muscles in Charlie’s back grow taut under his palm, and the jerk of Charlie inside him is enough to send Adam over with him. It all comes in flashes and his own body both tenses and gradually unravels as the orgasm overtakes him completely. The thought briefly crosses his mind that it wouldn’t be so bad if he died right there. It wouldn’t be a bad way to go.

When it all finally subsides, Charlie collapses on top of him, and Adam kisses the base of his neck, but the weight is too much and Charlie rolls onto his back next to Adam on the bed. Adam just stares at the ceiling, sated and giddy. He waits for the world to steady and everything to re-align.

Charlie moves first, sitting up and moving to the foot of the bed and he leans down retrieving his pants from the floor. He sticks a hand into a back pocket and pulls out a small plastic bag. When he turns back to Adam, he could see the two joints and a lighter.

“My agent’s gonna kill me,” Adam says, somewhat jokingly.

Charlie laughs as he hands a joint to Adam.

“I know for a fact that at least half the league does harder stuff than this. No one is going to care about you doing a bit of pot during the off-season,” Charlie says. 

Adam puts the joint to his lips and leans in and allows Charlie to light the joint. He leans back against the headboard and for a moment he just basks. He basks in the high from the marijuana, the sex they just had, the fact that Charlie is there sitting in his bed.

But there is still the last three years and the reason for that still hung over them, a cloud on what should be the perfect moment. Adam blows out a puff of smoke and looks at Charlie before looking down. He suddenly finds his own hands absolutely fascinating. But it should be him, he thinks. He is the one who owes an explanation for it all. He looks back up at Charlie and gathers enough courage to get out what needs to be said.

“I didn’t think you were going to come. You didn’t respond to my texts.”

Adam watches Charlie rubs his forehead before taking a long drag of the joint.

“Not gonna lie, I was debating coming or not.”

“What’s there to debate?” Adam asks.

Charlie smiles, and Adam thinks he must be the fool, that he is missing some crucial part of the conversation.

“I had to decide whether I’m okay with being your side-piece or not,” Charlie says and Adam doesn’t know whether he’s joking or serious.

“Wait, you came up here still thinking I was with Henry,” Adam says.

Charlie blows out another puff of smoke.

“Yes and no. I mean, I didn’t really think you’d send me a text inviting me up if you were still---but it crossed my mind.”

Adam’s joint is almost finished when Charlie broaches the subject for real.

“So what happened?”

Adam sighs before leaning over to the nightstand and smushes the joint out into an empty shot glass.

“It ran its course really.”

Adam knows it's silly to think that that is all that it would take, and he’s right when Charlie shoots him a look that tells him he has to do better than that.

“It was this wedding actually,” Adam says, “He wanted to come, be my plus one. And, I just really did not want him to come. Which was silly really. It wasn’t like we hadn’t gone to weddings and other things together before—you know, team mates, his friends.”

Adam trails off a bit and he wonders whether Charlie had noticed the obvious. That for the past three years, Adam had never brought Henry to any Ducks function or even to Minnesota. It’s a hard detail to miss.

He could tell Charlie had noticed as he looks at Adam to continue.

“So when I couldn’t give him a good reason why I didn’t want to bring him we fought and one thing lead to another and before I knew it I was ending it. God, I was a real cad. I’m sure if I’m involved in a real scandal, he’ll come out of the woodwork and leak how much of an asshole I am."

“A scandal like the NHL's darling star center caught smoking pot in a Hilton in Philly with his hot male lover.”

Adam laughs.

“Yeah exactly. But it’s fine. I’m fine. It was never supposed to go on that long. It was never…”

_ It was never supposed to be him. It was always supposed to be you. _

But that is too close and too much and it had taken everything in Adam to push out what he’s already said. He smiles at Charlie and in the most nonchalant voice possible tries to steer the conversation to a lighter note, provide some sort of relief.

“So there’s been no one for you?” Adam asks, “It’d be all right if there was. You can tell me.”

“Unbelievable,” Charlie mutters under his breath as he moves off the bed. Adam and can tell that this turn in the conversation had backfired, but Charlie’s shaking his head as he grabs and puts his pants back on.

“I just…” Adam says again, “I mean, I wouldn’t blame you…”

Charlie has slipped his shirt back on when he turns to Adam.

“No,” he says, “No one’s even come close.”

And there is something in his eyes and his voice that stops Adam in his tracks. He remembers the comments from the wedding, about Charlie always showing up stag to functions, how Julie had said she suspected Charlie was carrying a torch for someone.

And then Adam thinks back to all the years prior to his relationship with Henry. The phone calls, emails, the way Charlie did seem to light up when Adam walks into the room. How it was always Charlie who initiated and how he would wrap himself around Adam after they were done.

Adam feels the lump that had formed in his stomach seem to travel up his throat. He thinks about the last time, three years ago. It had not been a wedding, but rather a special event to commemorate the 15th anniversary of the Ducks’ gold medal win at the Goodwill Games. Adam had just been traded to L.A. from Denver and still recovering from coming out to his parents. They had been sitting in a hotel bed, not so different from this one, and they began to talk about L.A. and Charlie had talked about coming to California.

“I could go,” Charlie had said, “You know if you want. I mean I—”

Adam had brushed him off at that. Saying that he didn’t need to do that, Charlie belonged in Minnesota.

Adam brings himself back to the present and he curses to himself. Charlie adjusts his cuffs, but he doesn’t button his shirt or move to leave, rather he moves to the sliding glass door leading to the balcony, and opens it, allowing the warm air blow through the room. And he stands there in the doorway, half out and half in, and Adam just stares dumb-founded. 

He sees it now, and he felt it earlier. It’s all so clear and Adam hates himself for it. God, he really is an asshole.

Charlie loves him.

Charlie has always loved him.

And he had tried to tell him three years ago and Adam had just…

He’d run off and dated some random guy for three years. Like an idiot.

Adam slides out of bed and walks to Charlie, not even caring that he’s still naked.

“God, Charlie, I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

Charlie turns from the view of the Philadelphia skyline and looks at him.

“You knew.”

Adam swears.

“I…”

“You knew. I tried to tell you three years ago that I loved you and you just ran off and got with the first guy who wasn’t…” Charlie breathes in and his expression is slightly pained and Adam feels absolutely wretched, “the first guy who wasn’t me.”

Henry hadn’t exactly been that simple, Adam had fallen into a sort of funk when he first came to L.A. and was lonely and heartbroken from leaving Charlie like he did and being with Henry had been a nice salve to it all. But that didn’t matter. He and Henry were ancient history. Charlie is here and now.

And part of Adam wants to hope he’s here for the future too.

Adam looks down and then up and curses to himself, he grips the back of his neck before getting his bearings back and putting his hands to Charlie’s shoulder.

“You’re right,” Adam says, “I did know, maybe not consciously but I knew. But I wasn’t ready for it. I wasn’t fully out, I was switching teams and moving to a new city. And—”

Adam looks at him.

“A part of me was always waiting for the shoe to drop. For you to tire of me and move on to your real life. Get a wife and kids. I mean, I’ve always been gay, but you—it was always murky. I guess a part me back then thought it would be better if I called it off first. Just get over with the inevitable—”

Charlie hasn’t taken his eyes off Adam but still, he does not say anything. Adam meets his gaze, his blue eyes clear yet inscrutable. And god, Adam loves him. Loves him more than he can bear, even now. He wonders if Charlie will pay him back by rejecting him, breaking his heart in turn.

Adam would never recover.

“But I do, you know, love you,” Adam says, “I’ve always loved you. I loved you since you first reached out to me in that locker room at eleven years old, when you gave up your spot so I could play at the Goodwill Games. Hell, even when you were being an obnoxious asshole freshman year I loved you.”

Charlie laughs and relief washes over Adam as he tepidly steps closer.

“I just never thought that I could have you or love you in that way. Even when you kissed me, I always thought it would be a temporary thing and I should just be grateful for what I could get.”

“I would never have,” Charlie whispers, though his voice gets a bit louder as he goes on, “I just thought you thought you were too good for me.”

“I never thought that. You are the best of us,” Adam says, “I was the idiot. I was a coward and I am sorry. I’m sorry that I’ve kept you waiting and that I wasted some poor guy’s time for three years. For me, it’s you. It’s always been you.”

Adam takes a shot in the dark and leans in and kisses him. Charlie doesn’t exactly embrace him but he doesn’t push him away either. Rather, He opens his mouth just slight to allow Adam to move in and deepen the kiss, and Adam moves his hands to cup Charlie’s face. 

“I love you,” Adam says again for emphasis when he pulls away, looking intently and with purpose into Charlie’s eyes to emphasize his point. He wants, no needs, Charlie to believe him.

“Me too,” is all Charlie says, and it’s enough. Adam smiles when the curve of Charlie’s mouth tilts slightly up.

They kiss again; Charlie’s hands move to grip Adam’s bare waist.

“Come to LA,” Adam says when they part.

“What?”

“Come to LA with me,” Adam repeats.

Charlie looks uncertain, and Adam feels the hint of doubt creep in. Maybe he’s moving too fast, but they couldn’t go back to where they were. Not now.

“I don’t know,” he says, “I mean what do you want me to do, be your hockey husband or something. I wouldn’t want to be a burden.”

Adam smiles.

“You could get a job. LA needs teachers too, you know.” Adam caresses Charlie’s cheeks and slowly moves to wrap them around his neck, massaging the nape of his neck with his thumbs.

“I don’t know if I’d belong there, I mean I’m just a dumb, cheesy kid from Minnesota,” Charlie says, his smile sheepish, not bearing any of his usual self-confidence.

“You are,” Adam says, quickly kissing Charlie again before continuing, “but so am I. It doesn’t matter. You belong with me and I belong with you. We can make it work.”

Charlie looks up him, and smile widens a bit more. He reaches up and brushes the strands of hair from Adam’s face.

“We’d have to tell the others,” Charlie says.

“We’ll tell them in the morning.”

“They’ll have questions.”

“Then we’ll answer them, together,” Adam says.

Charlie bites the bottom of his lip.

“So we’re really going to do this,” Charlie says, “for real?”

Adam nods and pulls Charlie into an embrace. He feels a rush of wind graze over them, but Adam is not cold. Honestly, he’s never felt better.

“For real,” he speaks into Charlie’s shoulder. 

He brings his lips to Charlie’s ear and wryly smiles.

“Now come back to bed, love, we’re not finished yet.”

Adam backs away slowly running his hand down Charlie’s arm until they are full arms length distance from each other, their hands clasped together. Adam isn’t going to let go.

“We’re not?” Charlie lifts an eyebrow, an open invitation for Adam to expand on his thoughts.

“No,” Adam says as he pulls Charlie back towards the bed, “not even close.”

They fall into the bed and Charlie presses himself into Adam, he laughs, a deep, true and whole laugh. The first that Adam has heard that night, maybe first ever, and holds Charlie tight and promising himself to never let go.

Adam brings Charlie’s face to his and as they seem to disappear into the mess of hotel linens, and Charlie draws gasps of pleasure from him as he whispers various terms of endearment in his ear, Adam thinks about how good this feels and how happy he is.

And that this and Charlie, quite simply, feel like forever.

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thought I’d play a bit with the idea of Charlie pining since so often the focus is on Adam pining. Also needed to write a decent sex scene after being subjected to After.


End file.
